This shouldn't have happened
by Mad souleater with a box
Summary: Why? Why was it her that was hit? Why didn't she tell him before it was too late? How had he let her down? It should have been him... should have been him. Now his dear Queen is hurt and there's nothing he can do about it. One shot. Royai


**AN: Hello lovely readers! This is my first official story so I really hope you enjoy it. Please leave reviews and like/ fav if you like it. Shout to my good friend Yoda who beta read this for me. **

**Disclaimer: Fullmetal Alchemist and the picture for the story both belong to Hiroshi Onogi and Funimation, etc. I claim no right to either**

**Enjoy**

_This shouldn't have happened._

That was all Roy Mustang could think and comprehend as he sat at the bar, drink in hand. It was raining outside, just like his mind. His thoughts were destroyed by the thunder heads that had appeared the second he saw the blood seeping from his Lieutenant's jacket.

_Don't think about that, _he scolded himself. But it was too late, the memory surfaced anew. Painfully it seared its way to the front of his mind and the night's events flashed before his eyes.

Everything was going fine. Colonel Mustang was in the process of hunting down an alchemist who had come to Amestris from Xing not long ago. The man was insane as far as they could tell, always screaming about true art and beauty. The people gave him the name the Stone Alchemist because he transmuted rocks to make weapons.

The Stone Alchemist had a recent habit of going after military personnel, and that just wouldn't do. Colonel Roy Mustang and his team were given the task of capturing and questioning him.

It wasn't hard for Fuery to track him; he left a trail of rubble and cries wherever he went. It was like he had wanted them to find him.

At the time none of them realized that he did, in fact, want to be found.

When the Colonel and 2nd Lieutenant Havoc entered through the front of the building the tyrant was in, 2nd Lieutenant Breda hid out back and Lieutenant Hawkeye positioned herself on a roof across the street. Mustang made the first move, he blew open the hotel room door easily to find a neatly made bed and an empty room.

Stepping into the room, the Colonel made his way around the bed and closer to the window. He held his closed fist out the window as a sign to Hawkeye and walked back downstairs to double check the room number. Rubbing the back of his neck he told the receptionist about the door after finding out that the target left that morning.

After promising to pay for the full damages and leaving a hefty tip, Mustang walked out of the hotel to find his team a short ways away. Havoc and Breda were deep in conversation (most likely about a woman) sitting on the curb of the road and Hawkeye was on the phone in a booth a few feet away. Sighing, the Colonel made his way to his team and plopped down on the curb next to Havoc.

The Lieutenant, having finished her phone call, walked over and stood by the Colonel.

"Private Fuery hasn't found Stone's new location yet, so we'll have to wait. We should all head back to the office and fill out our paperwork." She said, raising her voice slightly so that the others would hear the last part.

"Aww, come on Hawkeye," Havoc groaned, "we've been doing paperwork all week and the day's almost over anyway. You should come grab a drink with me and Breda."

"No thank you, Havoc. I seem to remember you almost lit me on fire the last time I went drinking with you."

"But I didn't…" He mumbled as she turned back and saluted the Colonel. Turning she began to walk back to her car.

"I have to pick up a few things at the office," the Colonel stated before standing to follow her, "I'll catch up with you guys at the bar if I can."

"Yes sir." Breda said.

Jogging to catch up with the Lieutenant, Mustang tapped on her window as she searched in her bag for something.

"Sir." Hawkeye said, rolling down her window.

"Don't suppose I could ride to the office with you Lieutenant?"

"Of course Sir," she replied leaning over to open the other door for him.

She started the car and pulled into the street. The ride there was quiet, but it wasn't awkward. They spent too much time together to find something like a quiet car ride weird.

"So what do you need at the office?" She asked after a few minutes.

"I just need to pick up a few files about the Stone case to look at tonight, what about you?"

"I need to put in some time at the range."

"Wow, and here I was thinking that there was a certain point where even you couldn't improve."

She chuckled at the compliment, "There's always room for improvement"

No sooner had the words left her mouth that her drivers window shattered inward. Moving her face away from the flying glass, Hawkeye jerked the car into a side lane and stopped. Looking at the Colonel she found him putting on his gloves and undoing his seatbelt. She grabbed one of her guns from the bag resting beside her and hopped out of the car.

The Colonel turned just in time to see the Lieutenant closely dodge a flying stone aimed at her head. She turned and fired in the attacker's direction, sinking to her stomach to avoid injury.

An explosion ahead made her come up short and rise to her feet. Crossing behind the car she ducked toward the Colonel.

"One attacker as far as I can tell," she said looking cautiously over the roof of the car. "There's too much dust for me to see though."

"Alright, stay here." he ordered as he slipped out from behind the car. He could take care of the enemy and protect his dearest subordinate, he was sure of that much.

A fresh volley of jagged rocks came flying at him, accompanied by hysterical laughs. Directing an explosion in the direction of the laughs, he watched as flames engulfed the street. It had been lucky they were so far outside of Central; there were barely any civilians out this way.

With more laughs that grew steadily in hysteria, a shadow appeared in the smoke, a menacing dark silhouette. A large point protruded from the ground cutting through the space that the Colonel had, just a moment ago, occupied. The shadow darted through the smoke and ash, snapping quickly, Mustang tried in vain to hit him. He may have been insane, but the Stone Alchemist sure was fast.

He felt a quick tug on his boot and before he could comprehend anything, Mustang was lying flat on his back with snakes made of stone wrapping around his arms and legs. His gloves were pulled from his hands and his head pounded into the ground by the strong restraints enveloping him.

He watched, dazed and scared as the Stone Alchemist came into view, he had an ugly scar that stretched from his scalp to just above his left eye. His blond hair was plastered against his head with sweat and his pupils were dilated. The Stone Alchemist, the infamous legend, was just a child.

It was obvious that he couldn't have been older than ten or eleven, yet he had as much alchemic power as Roy, if not more.

The child's wild laughter was clearer than ever and his hands were shaking. The poor kid was bleeding on his right arm, and blood was dripping from his fingers.

Stalking toward him, Stone stared at his prey. This one had black hair and dark eyes, he hadn't killed anyone who looked like this one is quite some time. This would be fun.

Taking out a small knife, he began to trace the outline of his prey's face. He noted the places that would look absolutely beautiful if they were tarnished by blood. Of course he would have to destroy the entire body later, but for now he could play with the beautiful white canvas as much as he wanted.

As the knife started to apply pressure to Mustang's forehead, the boy snapped back and fell over. Crying, the child glared at the woman who had shot him, she was now walking toward him, having just left her hiding spot. How rude of her, to interrupt an artist like himself with something as foolish as a game of hide-and-seek.

Although the woman's beauty made him want to reconsider killing her, he resigned to the fact that some forms of beauty were simply too bright for the world. Still, if he could keep her face intact, he could bring her true beauty to light before destroying her.

Having made his decision, Stone re-focused on his newest prey. She was currently freeing the male from the stone with the butt of her gun. He was too late to stop her, silly him getting so lost in his thoughts again. The dark haired man stood and shakily thanked the woman.

What was he thanking her for? He would have to watch her die too now, and he knew enough about these people to guess that they wouldn't enjoy that.

And then there was his arm, he looked down to find that he had been shot in the shoulder, and it actually hurt quite a bit.

Anger swelled within him and he drew another circle on the ground, sending another wave of rubble in their direction.

The Colonel and the Lieutenant had barely made it to the shelter of the car before the wave hid. He heard her inhale sharply as they ducked behind the car.

"We need to get out of here," he stated stupidly, "my gloves are gone though, so I don't know how"

"Here," she said handing him another set.

"How?" he started to ask.

"You always manage to lose them, so I took precautions."

"You're the best," He said, slipping on the gloves

He looked around the back of the car and gazed at the young boy. He was currently drawing in the dirt on the ground. Apparently their attempts to flee weren't good enough entertainment for him. He honestly felt bad for the child, if he weren't insane he could have had a wonderful life ahead of him. If he didn't know the kid's track record, he might even have tried to reason with him. Unfortunately, there was a point where you killed so many times that your deeds can not be repented for. He and Lieutenant Hawkeye could both testify to that.

The Stone Alchemist looked up at him from his drawing in the dirt, his eyes wide and the look on his face innocent. He knew what was coming yet he did absolutely nothing to stop it, it was as if he was frozen in place. Waiting.

The Flame Alchemist snapped his fingers and the boy's body was engulfed in flames. He didn't scream, that was the worst part, he laughed. He laughed and laughed and laughed until his throat burned and his lungs popped.

Roy turned away and took in the scene before him, Hawkeye was leaning against the car with one hand on her chest. The car had been spared the worst of the attack and apart from a few dents and some scratched paint, was still fine. Hawkeye looked at him and wordlessly climbed into the driver's side of the car, and him, the passenger's.

"Are you alright?" she asked, starting the car.

"I'm fine, just fine." he replied shortly as he gazed out the window thoughtfully.

They had been close enough to central that in just a few minutes, the tall walls of buildings surrounded them and they drove along in silence.

The car came to an abrupt halt in front of the white building that Roy knew all too well.

The hospital loomed in front of them and Roy looked at his Lieutenant confused.

"Why are we here?" he asked, "I told you I'm fine."

"I remember sir," she said. There was an edge to her voice that he had never heard before, turning he looked straight at her. Only then did he see that her beautiful eyes were glassy and her hand was still pressed to her chest. "Unfortunately, I'm not."

She moved her hand back revealing the dark red liquid that was drenching her uniform. Gasping, he was out of the car and at her side in an instant. He quickly unbuckled her seatbelt and lifted her out of the car. What he saw horrified him, as her head rolled into his chest weekly, he saw the blood soaking the seat. Too much blood.

He turned and ran into the building with her in his arms.

Everything after that had been a blur, somehow Riza was put on a gurney and the blue scrubbed people began to roll her away. Her blood soaked hand slipped from his and he was left alone, without her, for the first time in a long time.

Sinking to his knees, Roy stared at the blood covering his hands and uniform. _Her _blood. Why was it _her _blood? It should have been his, should have been his.

He rocked back and forth, hands on either side of his head.

Should have been his blood.

A nurse came up and asked him to move, he was in the way. That's all he was good for wasn't it? Being in the wrong place at the wrong time.

He hadn't even considered that she could have been hurt. Not Riza, she was forever, she was always by his side. And now? He'd let her down.

This shouldn't have happened.

He stood and stumbled to the bathroom. Taking off his jacket he washed his hands, watching Riza's blood turn from dark red to pink before washing down the sink. He didn't look in the mirror; he didn't want to see the man who couldn't even protect his Queen.

Leaving his jacket off, he left the hospital. She didn't need him now, he couldn't help her. One foot in front of the other, he walked. It didn't matter where, just away.

And that's how he wound up in the smoky bar in which he now resided. Who knew what time it was, who cared? Downing another drink, he ordered another. How many was this now? It didn't matter, who cared?

This shouldn't have happened.

The door to the pub opened, screeching like nails on a chalkboard. Or was the sound just in his head? Who cared? What right did he have to feel any pain?

Roy looked feebly up as an all too familiar blonde sat next to him, ordering a drink of her own.

"General Armstrong, when did you get back to Central?" he greeted in monotone, only to get an icy glare in return.

"Well you messed up this time, Mustang," she said plainly.

"I was aware of the matter," he replied, did she have to add to the humiliation? Not that he deserved any less.

"I got back a few days ago, I'm only allowed to stay because I'm one of Hawkeye's emergency contacts." Having received her drink, she downed the entire glass in one swig, sighing and motioning for another to the bartender. "Did you know that Lieutenant Hawkeye and I were actually very close as children? Our fathers worked together and we were close friends for many years. I never trusted her father but she always insisted that everything was fine, and said not to worry about it. Still I was not sad to hear that he had died. He was a horrible, abusive man and I always wanted to get her out of there. Actually, I kid you not, I was filling out a report stating that I thought he was abusing her when I got the call that he had passed. We lost contact during Ishval but afterward we grew close again, in fact we were going to have dinner with Rebecca tomorrow. " she said.

Why was she saying this? It all went in one ear and out the other although, his temper still flared at the mention of Riza's father.

"I was always shocked that she didn't do something to get herself away from her father. I gave her many opportunities to leave but she always insisted that she was fine. It wasn't until after he died that she told me of the length of her abuse."

Mustang looked at her wearily, he didn't want to hear this. To know that he had added to the amount of pain that his dear Queen had to feel.

"Now Mustang, I am telling you this because I know exactly how you feel right now. My guess is that she waited until she was about to pass out to tell you that she was even injured right?"

_Right on the money,_ he thought but all he could bring himself to do was nod weekly.

"I thought so, and now you feel like you should have done something right? Asked the right question, said the right thing. Heck you probably even wish that you had been hit not her." she continued.

All that Roy could do was look at his hands, wrapped tightly around his glass. He could still feel her blood even though he could have sworn that he washed it off at the hospital. Such an odd place, one filled with horrible memories and even worse pain. Why was it called a hospital? To make people think that bleached walls and bloody aprons were hospitable?

"Mustang, it took me many years to figure this out, but that's just who Riza is. She would rather keep things like pain and injury locked up tight than tell anyone, even if it means self-sacrifice. I honestly don't know what good it does her, but it seems to make her happy so I let her do it."

The more she talked, the less cloudy his head became and the more he actually processed. She was right; of course, he had just been a fool not to read between the lines all these years. All the bills in her mail that she never spoke about, all to the scars that she never told the stories of. She never complained, even when it would be best for her sake. Her greatest virtue was also her greatest fault.

"You have to keep a close eye on that one," Armstrong continued, she was now stirring her drink with her straw, "You can never tell whether she's being quiet or digging her own grave."

The coment about Riza's grave reminded him exactly why they were having this conversation.

"D-D-did...?" He took a deep breath, "Did she make it?" He managed to stammer out.

"She got out of surgery 20 minutes ago. It'll take some time but she's gonna be fine. She got lucky, the blow just barely missed her heart." Armstrong closed her eyes and downed her drink, the alcohol making her throat burn. "Now then, the doctors say that Riza is going to wake up tomorrow morning. But, knowing our girl, she'll be up in a few hours, for better or for worse. Rebecca and I both agree that you are to be the first person that she sees when she wakes up."

Roy closed his eyes. Riza sure did have some stubborn friends. For the first time all night he allowed himself to take a breath. She would be ok, she would be ok. Everything would be ok.

He looked down in shock as Olivier snatched his drink and quickly drank it. Setting down the glass with a clank she looked at him stating, "Something tells me that you've had enough of those. Now go home, take a shower and get all pretty for your Lieutenant, we both know that she deserves it." With that she turned on her heel and walked out the door, leaving Roy to pay for her drinks.

Sighing he stood, leaving money on the counter, and left the bar intending to do just as she had ordered.


End file.
